


The Courting of Alphas

by LittleUggie



Series: Pack of Strays [9]
Category: Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Animal Ears, Despite the title, M/M, Will's Dogs are People, not a/b/o
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 19:10:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12941814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleUggie/pseuds/LittleUggie
Summary: Hannibal considers his wooing of Will.





	The Courting of Alphas

Hannibal was overly preoccupied with Will’s ears. He wanted to touch them. They were twitchy things, constantly swiveling, indicating how closely Will paid attention to his surroundings even if he seemed distracted. They were the same dark chocolate brown as the curls they sprang from and thickly furred. Hannibal found his eyes often drawn to them in Will’s presence, fingers itching to see if they are as soft as they look. 

But he restrained himself. Hannibal was quite adept at restraint. After all there is A Way These Things Are Done. Theoretically, at least. Courting between alphas is a complex and delicate business. There is the negotiation of the packs, of course. Since Hannibal was a lone lupine, this meant integrating himself into Will’s pack. Then there is the subtle give and take of control that is a natural part of an alpha pair’s relationship. Balance has to be achieved so the two can be seen as a unit by the rest of the pack. They are alpha, but between the two of them there has to be understanding and compromise. So courting is usually a long, drawn out process while the two alphas slowly circle each other, metaphorically (most of the time). 

Privately, Hannibal thought the whole process would go a lot easier if Will ever noticed he was, in fact, being courted. 

Oh, Will is aware of the romantic attraction between them. He even accepts Hannibal’s date invitations. But he is apparently clueless when it comes to picking up the more...understated cues. The prolonged eye contact, the gentle brushing of hands and shoulders, the exchanging of food, and acceding of territory. Or if he does notice them, he does not understand the significance. But then again, one can never tell with Will. It is one of the things that Hannibal finds interesting about him. 

Will did not grow up in a pack, so it is possible he is simply ignorant of the proper procedure. Then again, he has that remarkable perception. Surely he is aware of common lupine social behavior? Hannibal would hazard that he simply did not care about The Way Things Are Done. Certainly, this theory is supported by his interactions with his pack. 

So, the question arises. How does one court Will Graham? 

Hannibal quickly hones in on the fact that the way to Will Graham’s heart is through his pack. He carefully cultivates relationships, making a place for himself. It is no hardship, far from it. He is quite taken with the eclectic group. They are survivors, every one, something Hannibal greatly admires. 

He is truly fond of the unique personalities that make up the pack, from Jackson’s quiet nurturing to Buster’s impetuous kindness. It is somewhat surprising how easily he is embraced by the group. Some hazing is to be expected, but most seem genuinely eager to see their beloved alpha take a mate. 

Ellie was the last one to be won over, of course. She did not actively disapprove of Hannibal, but she was fiercely protective of Will and pack. Every interaction with her was a test. Her watching like a hawk for the moment he would slip up. It’s almost amusing. As if he ever failed a test. 

Will’s defenses were falling, slowly. He felt comfortable enough to spend longer and longer hours talking with Hannibal over dinner or sitting ensconced in the library or drawing room. The other alpha trusted Hannibal with his pack, even young Winston, of whom Will is especially fond. 

Despite this, the courtship seems to have stalled. 

They are situated in the drawing room late one Friday evening in early autumn while the doctor ruminates on his careful wooing. Will is on the settee and Hannibal is at his harpsichord, fingers moving on autopilot through one of his older compositions. He considers his options. 

Once again, his gaze is drawn to Will’s ears. They are relaxed and angled toward the music. There is a tumbler of scotch clasped loosely in one hand that he has been nursing since after dinner. When he catches Hannibal’s eye, his tail thumps once. There is no challenge between them. They are equals. Hannibal can feel his own normally well-behaved tail give a slight wave in response. 

Finishing the piece with a showy flourish, he gracefully rises from the instrument and joins Will. The seat is small enough that their outer thighs touch, a warm, intimate press. They are closer than they normally sit. Hannibal has kept a respectable distance, as is custom in these matters. But perhaps it is time to  _ press his suit _ , as they say. 

Will appears slightly startled by the sudden closeness, but not uncomfortable. He gives a crooked smile. On the rare occasions Hannibal has seen Will smile, it seems as if the action is unfamiliar. Hannibal returns it. 

“Forgive my distraction this evening. I am afraid I have been a poor host.” 

“No, it’s fine.” Will sets his glass down. “I enjoy hearing you play. It’s been such a long week, I appreciate some time to simply relax.” The smile fades and his brow lowers as he thinks back over what has been stressing him this week. 

Hannibal makes an educated guess. “Ah. Uncle Jack has been monopolizing your time again?” 

“Astute as ever, doctor.” Will sighs, running a hand over his face. 

“What does he have you chasing now?” Hannibal has a fairly good idea from the recent TattleCrime article, but considering Will’s disdain of Ms. Lounds, it would be best not to mention it. 

“A hiker stumbled on a mass grave. 15 women, ages 20 to 35. The oldest has been deceased about 10 years. The newest was reported missing 10 days ago.” 

“A serial killer.” 

Will nods grimly. “Looks like. One that has been getting away with murder for quite some time.” 

Hannibal watches his ears droop. His Will has such a soft heart. He considers for a moment what it must look like. 

“Any leads?” 

Will leans back, giving Hannibal a view of the pale column of his neck. It’s not submissive, but it shows an unconscious trust. 

“I really shouldn’t be talking about it.” 

“I could sign a confidentiality agreement, if you’d like.” Hannibal injects a note of amusement into his tone. “Though, I recall signing one when asked to consult on Hobbs’ case.”

“When Jack asked you to keep an eye on me, you mean.” Will grumbles.

“A plan which backfired quite spectacularly, wouldn’t you agree?” 

Will’s fingers are drumming on his thigh. Hannibal reaches out, stilling the movement by lacing his fingers with Will’s. 

The other alpha stares down at their clasped hands. “There is some circumstantial evidence that leads to one person. A lupine. He was kicked in the head by a horse a few years ago and suffered some brain damage. But I don’t think he did this. I think it is his social worker. The man is a classic narcissist and display a clear misogyny toward women. He’s trying to pin his crimes on someone he is supposed to help.” 

The anger burns cold in his voice at the last words, and his grip tightens in Hannibal’s. It is fascinating to watch the play of emotions over Will’s face, his ears slicking back. A righteous anger flows through Hannibal’s intended. He mentally starts planning a sketch of Will as an avenging angel. 

“I am sure justice will out.” Hannibal says to him, finally giving into the urge to bury his fingers in Will’s curls. 

The other alpha appears to melt into the cushions, as his nails lightly scratch his scalp. His thumb rubs the base of one of his ears. The fur their is as soft as he imagined. Will turns to him, eyes half lidded, and pulls him down. They don’t do much talking the rest of the night. 

 

Three days later Clark Ingram is found in his apartment. Castrated, and hung with thirty silver nails embedded into his body. His liver is missing. Around him are photographs he had taken of the women in the mass grave. They told the story of how he had stalked and killed them. While the FBI wasn’t too sad to see a serial killer die, they could find no clue as to who killed him. 

  
Hannibal serves steak with  pâté to Will a week after that, and smiles at his enjoyment.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have anymore planned for this series, besides a few pieces of artwork that I will definitely finish at some point. Hope you guys enjoyed! Feel free to use the Lupine AU in your own works.


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